The Wand and the Sword
by Bal187
Summary: My first action fiction. Characters dont belong to me, yadayadayada. Anyways, this story, I wanted to have Arthur Weasley, but I just cant picture him using a sword, but I think you guys will be pleasantly surprised.
1. The Wand and the Sword

**The Wand and the Sword**

The wind blew silently through the tall grass, swaying it back and forth. The sun was setting now, low on the horizon, a crimson sphere spreading its color throughout the sky. Death was in the air. There was a hush on the descending on the landscape, as if the world knew its end was coming.

A sole figure stood in the tall grass, underneath a jut of rock, his face shielded by the darkness. He stood silent, wrapped in a dark cloak. He was tall, but his features indistinguishable in the shade.

In one hand, he held a wand. Made of birch, it shone in the dying sun, reflecting the red light outwards. In the other hand, he held a glittering sword. It was long, almost a claymore, but he held the weight in one hand effortlessly. He still stood.

The sun finally set, and darkness fell across the land. The figure stepped out of the curve of rock, and into the moonlight. With that, a loud _Crack!_ issued into the quiet, still night air, and another figure appeared.

He had appeared out thin air, walking towards the other man. Dressed in all black, the mans face was covered by a thin white mask. Attached to his hip was a holster, and inside was his wand, where his right hand rested.

The first man spoke, in a clear, booming voice which rang across the plains, causing the tall grass to rustle. "I thought you would never come, Lucius."

The second man, raised his free hand to his face, where he removed his mask, revealing a pale, sneering face. He took out his wand, and let it lay limp at his side. The sneer turned into a slight smile. "Perhaps you would like to remove your hood, and we can get on with this? Or perhaps you would like a peaceful way out?" he said mockingly.

The tall figure reached up and removed his hood, revealing the head of Kingsley Shacklebolt. His face was unfathomable, completely expressionless. "Perhaps we had better get to it, Lucius, before you lose your nerve."

Lucius Malfoy reverted back to his sneer. '_How dare this muggle-loving Auror?' _he thought. He looked at the sword in Shacklebolt's hand. "Would you prefer that we resort to muggle-duelling, Shacklebolt? Or have you just come to die tonight?"

Kingsley looked at him silently, and then spoke. "This weapon will be your death, Lucius. However, I believe in a level playing field." And with a flick of his wand, a large sword of the exact same type and stature rose out of the tall grass, and hovered beside Malfoy's free hand. "Severus Snape tells me you were quite the fencer in school," continued Kingsley. "Elementary lessons will not save you tonight, Lucius." And with that, he gave a loud, booming laugh. The laugh spread throughout the plains, and made Malfoy flash his eyes with rage. He was fast, Malfoy was, but Kingsley was much, much faster.

Malfoy grabbed the sword, which was still hovering, and raised his wand to curse Kingsley. But Kingsley had already considered that move, and raised his sword in defense. The spell, a bright red in color, hit Kingsley's sword and rebounded to the ground, causing a smoking hole. Malfoy was already rushing, spell after spell, but Kingsley was dodging them. Despite his very large size, Kingsley was very fast on his feet, and had jumped and landed ten feet from Malfoy.

"Very well, Kingsley. You tire of our game already? I was hoping to take you alive to the Dark Lord, and what a gift of information you would be. But it seems that you would much prefer death. So be it, Auror."

Malfoy made a slashing motion with his wand, and bellowed, "_Avada Kedavra!" _There was a flash of green light that blinded even Malfoy, who squinted to avoid losing sight. When the flash subsided, he saw a smoking crater where Kingsley had been standing. Malfoy stood silently; in the exact same pose, with his wand at the ready. He walked cautiously forward, ready to blast anything that moved. He approached the crater, and looked for Kingsley's body.

It wasn't there.

"Nice try, Malfoy. Perhaps I could be allowed to fight, now?" Kingsley was standing behind Malfoy! Malfoy spun around but Kingsley had tired of this game, and with a shout of "_Expelliarmus!",_ Malfoy's wand went flying from his hand and fell several feet in the tall grass.

Malfoy looked up, the malice in his eyes replaced with fear.

"No, Malfoy, I'm not going to kill you. Dumbledore would like you alive, but believe me when I say this, Malfoy. I would take pleasure in destroying dirt like you."

Malfoy was weighing his options. Be taken back personally to Dumbledore, where there would be no breaking free, and no bargaining. Dumbledore would surely extract all the useful information from his mind, and then discard him back to the Dark Lord, who would kill him just as quick as look at him. Or he could try to fight here, against this Auror, and be killed just as quickly. And what did he have to fight with? His wand was gone, but all he had was this sword. _The sword, _his mind whispered. _Use it!_

"I'm going to tie you up, Malfoy, and wait for some backup. Do not try to struggle or I will kill you. And drop that sword while you are at it, wont you?" Kingsley backed away one step, and Malfoy bent down to drop the sword, but with one clean motion he swung the heavy sword upwards. Kingsley had not slowed down, and jumped backwards, but his wand hand stayed forward, ready to tie up Malfoy. The tip of the sword hit Kingsley's wand, and cut it in half cleanly.

The result was very unexpected. An explosion blew them both apart with such force that Kingsley flew back nearly thirty feet, and Malfoy flipped over onto his stomach, the sword lying by his side, emitting a smoke from its edges.

Kingsley sat up immediately and looked for what was left of his wand. Nothing. The remains had turned to black powder, and he crushed the substance with his hand in anger.

He stood, the sword in hand, and began walking towards Malfoy. Malfoy saw this, and stood quickly, despite the pain in his sides and his chest. Grasping the sword with both hands, he prepared himself for battle.

Kingsley brought the sword behind his head and gathered all his remaining strength to his limbs. When he was three feet from Malfoy, he brought the sword down with such force that Malfoy staggered under the assault, but blocked it with an upraised hand. Kingsley had obviously brought magical swords to the duel, and they emitted sparks when they clashed. Malfoy stepped backwards, and did a quick stab to Kingsley's stomach. Kingsley jumped back and blocked Malfoy's parry. He spun, bringing the sword into a slashing move aimed at Malfoy's neck. He ducked under the move and slashed at Kingsley's shoulder, which he blocked with a strike of his own. They battled for several minutes, and found that strange things were happening to the swords. When Malfoy blocked a blow from Kingsley, he saw the sword grow nearly a foot in length. Pleased with this increase in reach, Malfoy went on the offensive, doing quick parries and stabs at Kingsley's midsection.

Kingsley wanted the battle to end quickly, because he knew that Malfoy's cronies would be arriving soon, much sooner than his comrades had intended to arrive. Malfoy swung the sword around his head and brought it down, to cleave Kingsley's bald head in two. But Kingsley stepped to the right and kicked Malfoy in the side, bringing his sword up to cut his head off. Malfoy raised to block and ducked out from under Kingsley's attack. Malfoy looked in amazement, as Kingsley's blade had lit on fire. He felt the searing heat of the blade each time Kingsley took a swipe at Malfoy's face. Kingsley would not be backing off now, and he attacked with increasing anger and rage. Each blow weakened Malfoy, and soon he fell backwards on to his back, and saw Kingsley raise his sword, presumable to stab him in the heart. Malfoy dropped his sword, hoping that Kingsley would show him mercy, and at least arrest him.

Malfoy's hand fell to the ground, and there he found something he did not expect. _Your wand!_ shouted his mind._ FIGHT!_ And Malfoy raised the wand, and issued a spell from its end. Kingsley still managed to block the spell, but at this range, it didn't matter, and it knocked him backward off his feet.

Malfoy was on his feet, and to his amazement, he saw Kingsley standing as well. Fear and panic overtook Malfoy. _He is no man, _his mind said fearfully, _you cannot kill him. You have lost._ But Malfoy would now die fighting. He raised the wand and shouted "_Stupefy!!" _but the spell bounced harmlessly off of Kingsley's sword, who seemed to have a prescient ability of when the spell was coming. "_Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!" _he screamed at the now charging Kingsley. He was ten feet away, eight feet, five feet, and he blocked all the spells with casual swinging of the sword. He saw Kingsley raise his sword to shoulder level and bring it ready to swing. Too late, Malfoy bellowed, "_Avada Ked-," _but his words were cut off. He couldn't speak for some reason. Belatedly, he felt a sharp pain in his neck, and then all went black.

Kingsley stood over the crumpled body of Lucius Malfoy, whose head lay some a few feet away. He bent down, picked up Malfoy's wand, and pocketed it.

"Thank you for the help, Albus." Kingsley bowed his deeply, in deference to the man who had just arrived.

Albus Dumbledore walked towards Kingsley, wand in hand. "It is a shame that he could not be taken alive, Kingsley. But I commend on your efforts, and I realize that you had no other choice. Lucius Malfoy will be missed among the ranks of Lord Voldemort, and they will be angry at the loss of his lieutenant."

He began to walk, and Kingsley walked to his right, silently.

"You have a question, Kingsley?" Dumbledore stared right ahead, but Kingsley knew that the older man could tell what he was thinking.

"How did the others fare? Is Nymphadora Tonks all right?" Dumbledore sighed.

"She fared well, and she managed to capture McNair. But..." Dumbledore stopped. "Before she arrived, he managed to kidnap and execute a muggle."

Kingsley closed his eyes for peace, and hoped that the muggle who was killed could now find peace. He would be paying a personal visit to McNair soon. Kingsley loved to interrogate Dark Wizards.


	2. The Wand and the Sword 2

The Wand and the Sword

A windswept castle sat quietly on a dark cliff edge. Silhouetted against the waning sky, no one in the castle saw a tall, quiet figure approaching. He was wearing a dark cloak, and atop his head sat a tall wizard's hat. In one hand he held his wand, which was emitting a beam of light to guide the man to the castle. In his other hand lay a bright sword, almost as bright as the beam of light itself. On its hilt were written the words _Godric Gryffindor. _ The figure walked with heavy steps, as if the weight of the world were upon his shoulders. He approached the large gates of the castle, and with a wave of his wand, they opened.

The gates opened to reveal a dark anteroom, lit by only a few torches. The man extinguished the light from his wand, and walked quietly and softly through the castle.

At first glance, the castle seemed deserted. But Albus Dumbledore knew better. He had entered a great room, which was indeed great. Its height was the height of the castle, and when Dumbledore looked up, he could not see the rafters of the room, as they were too high. It spanned several hundred feet in length, in each direction. This room was obviously enchanted, as it was almost twice the size of a Quidditch pitch.

"Ah, Dumbledore!" A voice rang out from nowhere. Dumbledore did not bother to look around; he knew the speaker would be nowhere nearby. "My spies had told me that you were coming, but I refused to believe them. I thought to myself, 'Why would Dumbledore come willingly to his death?'"

Dumbledore smiled benignly, and spoke. "On the contrary, Tom, I have not come to my death. I have come to give an ultimatum. Stop your pursuing of the Potter boy, or I guarantee that the entire wizard population will be after you, and your followers. I have already caught many of your main supporters, and I am sorry to say that your lieutenant Malfoy has been killed. Decapitated, it would seem."

There was a moment's silence, and then a laugh rang out. It was high and cold, entirely mirthless.

"Give up Potter? Your love of the Mudbloods has blinded you, Dumbledore. I would not leave alone Potter even if you offered up yourself as a sacrifice. As for Malfoy, he received no less than he deserved. I have no use for weak servants, Dumbledore."

There was a pause, and then the voice spoke again. "Now, Dumbledore. What shall I do about you? I would kill you myself, but you are far too unimportant to be crushed underneath my heel." Dumbledore smiled again. Tom Riddle still feared him. "However, I would like to introduce you to someone. He has been dying to meet you, Dumbledore."

The voice began to hiss, and Dumbledore realized that Riddle was speaking Parseltongue. What could this be? Perhaps another basilisk. The ground began to shake under his feet. It was coming from the other side of the room, three hundred feet away.

"Albus Dumbledore, I would like you to meet Typhon. He has proven himself as one of my most loyal servants."

And with that, the opposite wall burst open in an explosion of mortar and brick. Dumbledore had to move quickly to avoid being hit with a piece of stone weighing a ton. When the dust settled, a loud roar thundered across the room, shaking the ground on which Dumbledore stood, piercing his ears.

The laugh began again, and Tom Riddle spoke. "Let's see what you make of him, Dumbledore. I shall see you again."

Dumbledore focused his eyes and his energy. He looked across the room, where there was now a large hole in the wall, nearly fifty feet in radius. He readied his wand and sword, prepared for anything that would come through the walls. The ground shook again, this time very violently, and Dumbledore realized that these were footfalls. What kind of monstrous creature had he been breeding?

The creature was nearly at the wall, as the footsteps were getting closer. Finally Dumbledore got a glimpse of the creature. It was a terrible monster, a hundred and fifty feet in height. It was so large that it had to duck to get through the hole that it had made. As it stepped through the hole, Dumbledore got a good view of what the creature really was.

It was a giant! But much bigger than the average giant, nearly ten times larger. Tom had obviously twisted this creature with his dark magic. Atop the giant's shoulders sat one enormous head; this had the horns of a bull. Surrounding the head in the center were four other heads, each staring at Dumbledore with the same intensity. The center head, he saw, was breathing heavily, and each time it exhaled, a bit of flame came out of its mouth. The creature could breathe fire.

Its chest had a large plate on it, obviously some sort of magical armor to block spells. His hands were incredibly large, bigger than Dumbledore himself. On each hand, rather than fingers, they ended with fifty snakes, which were all writhing and staring at Dumbledore. In one hand, the giant held a piece of flaming rock, which without warning, he flung at Dumbledore. Dumbledore quickly jumped out of the way, the rock rolling past him.

This creature was going to be difficult to defeat. Dumbledore watched the creature warily as it circled and began to approach him. Its legs were massive, and they crossed the distance of three hundred feet in less than five seconds. When it arrived, it didn't stop, but used its momentum to take a swipe at Dumbledore. He ducked under the gargantuan hand, and rolled to a stop at his foot. Dumbledore took the sword and plunged it into the giant's ankle. Pulling the sword out, Dumbledore moved off, away from the giant, as all five of its heads screamed and roared in pain. Its voice itself seemed to be a weapon, almost causing Dumbledore to drop his instruments of war. It looked to its feet, and found its quarry gone. It fumbled around, and one of the heads twisted to see the small man behind him. The body turned as well, and with a resounding roar, the center head threw fire at him. It was searing hot, but Dumbledore used his wand to shield him from the fire. He failed to notice the monsters other hand coming straight at him. The snakes on the end of its hand snapped at his face, while he flew through the air and hit the wall with a crash. Getting up, he saw the monster charging him at an insane pace, and Dumbledore held the sword in a javelin position and threw it with all his might, using his wand to guide it home. The sword impacted the chest, and with a tremendous crash, the chestplate fell off, and the sword dug deeper, hitting the giants heart. It gave a gigantic roar that shook dust from the walls. It was in obvious pain, and now would be vulnerable to magic. Dumbledore flicked his wand, and a shockwave of pain passed over the giant. When the wave hit the plate which was lying on the floor, it uttered a loud _DONG!_ The giant was now stumbling, in utter pain. Dumbledore aimed several stunning spells at the giant, and they worked. The giant took the spells and began to fall backwards.

Suddenly, a loud hissing began to fill the room. The giant seemed filled with a renewed energy, and stood itself up again. The sword was still protruding from its chest, causing the giant to bleed all over the floor. He was charging at him with a new interest now, intent malice in its several eyes. The monster was almost fifty feet away when Dumbledore disappeared with a loud _Crack!_ The giant stopped. Where was his prey? Dumbledore re-appeared on top of the giant's center head. The giant roared in absolute fury, trying to grab the nuisance from its scalp, but Dumbledore dodged all of these grabs. With a bellow, he yelled, "_Accio Blade!" _and the sword, stuck in the giants heart, dug itself out and landed in Dumbledore's hand. With a roar of strength, he plunged the sword in the back of the giant's neck, until finally it would stab no further. The blade had reached the giant's brain, and with no more than a whimper, the creature began to fall.

With an earth-shattering crash, the monster hit the floor, leaving a very large crater. Dumbledore lay still for several minutes. He wanted to make sure that it was completely dead. When the creature refused to breathe, he got up and retrieved his wand, which had flown across the room during the fall.

He looked back at the monster, blood now flowing freely from its mouth. He pulled the sword from its neck, and walked from the castle, disappointed that the journey had not ended today.


	3. The Wand and the Sword 3

The Wand and the Sword

It was Christmas Eve. Most of the world was inside celebrating a wonderful day off, away from the cold of outside, enjoying a hot meal. Greater London was nearly empty, except for a few cars that were rushing home from work, ready to enjoy some peace and quiet. Everything was in complete harmony. Except for one man.

He stood atop a tall skyscraper, wrapped in a cloak, impervious to the cold. The wind flapped around him, but he stood completely still. In one gnarled hand he carried a large wand, and in the other hand he carried a long katana, light as a feather. His eyes were closed but he was completely aware of the world around him. He became aware of a presence coming to the building long before it arrived.

With a crash, another man landed on the building, cement tiles buckling under his feet. The first man turned to face this new foe.

"Well, well, well. Rudolphus Lestrange. How nice of you to come," he said.

The man said nothing, but withdrew his wand, and unsheathed a sword which was hanging from his back.

"Ready to die, Lestrange? I always thought that life in Azkaban was still too little for what you did to the Longbottom's. I think I might extract some justice out of you today."

The second man sneered. His face was pallid and sunken, and his eyes kept flitting all over. "We shall see, Moody," he said. "I didn't think you would surrender easily, so I took the liberty of inviting my brother along. He's been dying to meet you."

Rabastan Lestrange apparated in mid-air, dropping down beside his brother and breaking the tiles again. He too had a large claymore and a wand. He had an identical sneer to his brother, which was now directed at Moody. "So this is the famous Moody," he said. "He looks like nothing; we can take him easily, brother."

Moody snorted. These upstarts thought they could take him? How laughable. With that, he removed his hood, and was satisfied to see the two brothers flinch. Not many could stare into the face of Mad Eye Moody and not be afraid. Heavily scarred, signifying the marks of all the battles that he had been in, and there was a large chunk missing from his nose, blasted right off in a fight with another Death Eater.

But the two brothers gained their resolve and stepped forward. "You have chosen death today. So be it, Moody," Rudolphus said, and a blast issued from his wand.

Moody sidestepped the blast and issued one his own. The wand hit the building's floor, right near their feet, and caused them to fall several feet back. Moody was now on the attack, taking his sword and running after the brothers. Rabastan was on his feet first, and he blocked Moody's quick strike to the throat, and hit back with a stab of his own to the stomach. Moody dodged the hit, and jammed his wand into Rabastan's side. Moody yelled "_Stupefy!" _and the beam of red light barely had a few inches to travel before it hit Rabastan. He flew ten feet, landing right on the edge of the building. Rudolphus was up at that time, and raised his iron claymore behind his head. Moody raised his katana in defense, but the other's sword was much heavier, and Moody fell to the ground in the onslaught.

Rudolphus attempted to cleave Moody's head in two by bringing down the sword like an axe, but Moody rolled, and sparks flew as the sword hit the ground. Moody got up quickly, just as Rudolphus made another attack. Moody dodged this one, but failed to notice that he was nearing the edge. Rudolphus went on a mad offensive now, striking randomly, and not pausing for breath. Moody tried to block him off, but stumbled under the attack, and fell back, this time over the edge.

Rudolphus watched Moody tumble over the edge and let out a sigh of relief. He looked over to his brother, who was hurt but not in any real danger. He decided to risk looking over the edge, to see if Moody had actually fallen or not. Just as he stuck his head out to check, the last thing he saw was a blast of red light.

Moody was hanging, literally, by a string. He had managed to grab onto a protruding flag as he had fallen, which was now beginning to tear. The scum had looked over and gotten a slowing jinx right to the face. Any second now, the flag would tear completely, sending him hurtling to the ground. He looked up. The rooftop was twenty feet away, so climbing up a brick wall was out of the question. He couldn't swing into a nearby window, as the flag would give in under any shift of weight. Only one option left. He began to think of the rooftop, the spot where he wanted to be right now. Just as the flag tore completely, and the piece that he was hanging onto fell from its original, Moody disappeared.

He reapparated onto the rooftop, where the brothers were getting up again.

"So, you survived, did you Moody? No worries, we will kill you now." And both brothers attacked with all their might and fury. Moody was on the defensive, but he was much more skilled than both of them. He deflected their hits effortlessly now. All he planned on doing was keeping both brothers directly in front of him. Rabastan made to parry into Moody's chest, but missed and stumbled forward. This was the chance that Moody had been looking for. Blindingly fast, he took his wand and jabbed it in Rudolphus' eye, who howled in pain. Rabastan, however, was still recovering from his stumble, and had his head in a bowed position to the right of Moody. It almost seemed sad, wasteful even, to end a human life so easily. But Moody put those thoughts out of his mind in the span of a microsecond, and brought his katana down on Rabastan's neck. The sword cut through with almost no effort, and Rabastan's body crumpled to the floor, his head separated.

Moody's magical eye gave him no time to think. He saw through the back of his head that Rudolphus had somewhat recovered from his injured eye, and was now looking unbelievably at the body of his dead brother. Moody turned to face him. Rudolphus was breathing very heavily, and his one good eye was filled with rage. Then he let out a cry of anger that chilled Moody. And without warning, Rudolphus attacked. He was made of pure fury now, and he had very little care for his own personal safety. He kept hitting Moody, whilst Moody, now tired from the fighting, was careful to block every hit. Moody looked behind and saw that he was nearing the edge again. He had no intention of falling off again, and readied himself for what he was about to do. Blocking Rudolphus' slash to the chest, Moody pivoted on his feet, and jumped behind Rudolphus. Rudolphus didn't even have time to be surprised, as a tenth of a second later, Moody raised his foot and kicked him in the center of the back.

Rudolphus went flying off the edge, and Moody ran with his wand out and bellowed "Arresto Momentum!"

Rudolphus, whose face was contorted into fear and anger, looked at Moody while floating in mid-air. His sword and wand had been jostled in his sudden departure from the building, and were now falling a hundred stories to the street below.

He looked at Moody, whose scarred face revealed nothing. He realized that Moody meant to kill him. He began to plead. "Mercy, Auror, I beg of you! Grant me mercy! I will shed these Dark origins, and I will come willingly with you to Dumbledore!"

Moody studied him for a moment, and then let out a laugh that rang cruelly in Rudolphus' ears. "Mercy, Lestrange? Like the mercy that you, your brother and your lovely wife had shown Frank and Alice Longbottom? Or perhaps the mercy that your wife had shown Sirius Black? Or maybe the mercy that your Lord Voldemort had shown to James and Lily Potter? Very well, Lestrange. I shall grant you the same mercy that I granted your brother. I promise, Lestrange, when you hit the ground and leave a big red mark, you won't feel any pain at all." And with a mental effort, he removed the connection between his wand and Rudolphus.

It took him a fraction of a second to realize what was happening. When he did, he began to scream. "NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOOO-" and the final scream trailed off into the distance. Moody didn't hear him hit the ground. With a breath of exhaustion, Moody thought of Grimmauld Place, and disappeared.


End file.
